I used to be like you. “Canada” was a word that brought forth images of draft dodgers, hockey and Howie Mandel. It shared brain space with such phrases as “take off, hoser,” and “beauty, eh.” To me, Canada was little more than America’s hat; and not a cool hat, but a red flannel hat with earflaps and a chinstrap. Sure they had universal health care and the Trailer Park Boys, but what about the rest? After visiting, I have realized that if America is the land of opportunity, then Canada must be the land of guarantees.

For starters, that bitch is clean! When I say clean, I don’t mean the streets are free from trash; the shit is spotless. I can’t prove it, but I think Canadian citizens may have to do a mandatory tour of duty as garbage men. Part of the cleanliness may be due to all the trees. They seem to force all the crap air from the States back across the border, which explains the smell of Idaho (that ain’t potatoes, people). The Canadians must have also figured out that dumping all their shit, urine, vomit, condoms and tampons into the water supply is a bad idea because the ocean there is cool, clear and crisp. Even the homeless wear tuxedos and are given free toothbrushes. OK, so I made that last part up, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened.

Not only is the terrain beautiful, but the women are as well. I gawked so hard in Vancouver that my eyes almost fell out of my head. Everywhere I looked, there was another honey to holla at. I was like a kid in a candy store, which was good since many of the women I met were in the 18-20 range. Yeah I’m 28, but the age of consent in Canada is only 14; so really, I was going after the MILFs. As if the odds weren’t already good, the legal drinking age is 18. That’s right high schoolers”¦ you have a new spring break destination and it’s Montezuma’s Revenge free! Unfortunately, for the ladies, the Great White North has less to offer. The attractive men I saw were all gay, but don’t fret”¦ Mexico is still plush with Latin lovers.

If clean cities and drunken beezies aren’t your thing, perhaps Canada has something else to offer. What’s that you say”¦ plain old weed just isn’t doing it for you anymore? Go to Vancouver where your sack might come with complimentary crack rocks! You won’t even have to suck dick or give up your cheeseburger to relive your favorite scene from Menace II Society. Don’t want to be a base head? Maybe coin collecting is your thing. You are in luck my friend because the lowest denomination of paper money in Canada is a five; so expect pockets full of change! “But Bocephus, I drank away all my spare cash.” Rejoice, alcoholics! Even the crappy beer in Canada tastes pretty damn good. Granted, it will cost you an arm and a leg, but universal health care means free artificial limbs for all!

Looking for adventure? How about taking an 8 a.m. boat ride with a skipper that stopped drinking four hours ago? That’s right, your very own Captain Canuck can take you cod poaching around the Pacific Ocean and if you are lucky, he will get shit-housed off your beer and tequila. As a bonus, he might repeatedly yell, “Too many mutha ‘uckas ‘uckin with my shit!” over the boat’s loudspeaker. When it’s time to go home, just dangle a baseball bat-sized joint in front of his eyes. You might get annoyed, but you will get to watch him fall face first on the dock when you land. Canada just keeps paying off!

Neighbors to the north, America laughs at you and makes you the subject of ridicule. We guzzle your maple syrup and eat all your Canadian bacon. We look at you like your only purpose was to keep our heads warm, but we have it all wrong. Canada, you were never our hat, we were your toilet. Consider this my courtesy flush.